Decks, Windows, and Brian May
by CristinAnne1
Summary: It's a game of give and take...; Yaoi, 2x1


Feedback: Constructive criticism welcomed gladly, flames used to heat my freezing cold dorm room  
Archive: My site ( http://ladysorka.crosswinds.net ), and if you want it just drop me a note - I'll say yes. ^_^  
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. Really. I make no claim. And suing me would be really stupid anyways, unless you've got a thing for Queen CDs.  
Notes: My first foray into GW fandom, so if it's horrid, tell me. Not beta-ed (sorry), but it was spell-checked and gone over with a red pen numerous times.   
  
--  
  
There's something soothing about manual labour. It's almost like the more I put my back into it, the more relaxed I get. Which is how I ended up outside on a scaldingly hot summer morning fixing the deck while Heero is inside sleeping.  
  
Next time I volunteer to hammer all the loose boards back in, I'm volunteering him to help me. The bastard's still upstairs curled in our bed, sleeping. I'd put money on it. The little shit. He's still lounging up on that bed. I can just picture it. His hair's all mussed, and he's got that little wrinkle right above his nose that he gets when he sleeps. He's hugging the pillow since I'm down here, and the sheet's half-off because our air conditioner went out....  
  
Ow! Ow, damnit! Okay, thinking about Heero in bed and hammering at the same time is *not* a good idea. Ow. Damn hammer.   
  
I glance down at the offending nail that I missed for my thumb and wince. This board is completely warped. I'm going have to replace the whole thing. Fuck.   
  
"Duo?"  
  
I look up to see Heero in a bathrobe, holding a cup of coffee. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and hiss "What?" It's hard to talk normally when your thumb is screaming bloody murder.  
  
"When you're done out there, can you wash the windows? It's your turn." I blink stupidly as he heads back into the kitchen and starts to boot up his laptop. What the?  
  
"Heero, I'm kind of busy. Can't you wash the windows?"  
  
"I did it last week. It's your turn," he says simply without even turning to look at me. He's got this weird complex about windows - they have to be washed every week.   
  
"Heero," I say gritting my teeth, "I'm busy. I will be busy all day. Because I have to fix the deck. You can wash the windows today, and I'll do the next two weeks."  
  
"That's not how it works. I did it last week, now it's your turn," he says, still not looking at me.  
  
"Fine, you finish the deck, and I'll wash the windows."  
  
"No. You said you would fix the deck. And it's your turn to wash the windows." And the bastard *still* doesn't look at me.  
  
"Heero," I say trying to reign in my temper. "I don't have eight arms. I don't have any clones. I am not omnipotent. I can not fix the deck and wash the windows in one day. You're going to have to do one or the other."  
  
"They're both your job. Guess you'll just have to deal." And he turns around and smirks at me. Smirks. The little fucker.  
  
"Jesus H. Fucking Christ, Heero!" I throw the hammer to the floor of the deck, cracking the warped board in two.  
  
I stalk off to the garage and sink to the ground with my back to the wall, my face into the sun, and close my eyes. Who the hell does that bastard think I am? His own personal slave? Christ.  
  
I see the shadow come in front of my eyes, but I don't open them. "This is a game of give and take, Heero. You haven't quite learned that yet." He stays silent.  
  
"There's an old song that describes how you're making me feel perfectly, Heero. It was written by Brian May. Or at least I think it was Brian May, it could have been Freddie Mercury or one of the other two guys, but it sounds like a Brian May one." I don't have to open my eyes to know that Heero has his 'What is that baka rambling on about now?' look on his face.   
  
"Anyways." I open my eyes and stare up at him. "I'm going to sing this, and I know I can't sing, but you're just going to have to deal, okay?" I say bitterly. He glares at me, but nods.  
  
"Okay." Here goes nothing. I start to sing. "I can't live with you." He flinches. "But I can't live without you." I take a deep breath and keep going. "Cause I'm in love with you, and everything about you."  
  
He has this look on his face I've never seen before. I can't even classify it. "You... you love me?" he asks quietly.  
  
I blink up at him incredulously. "Heero, I bought a house with you. I drink your piss-poor coffee. I wash your underwear. Did you really think it was just because you were a good fuck?"  
  
He flinches again, and then gets his 'lost-puppy' look. I *hate* the lost-puppy look. Damnit. "Heero, come here."  
  
He sinks down to the ground next to me, and I wrap my arms around him. "No one's ever loved me before," he says quietly. Oh God....   
  
"Heero, I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I love you." I bring his head down to me and kiss his forehead.  
  
He suddenly wrenches himself out of my arms, and brings his lips up to mine. It's a quick kiss, no more than a few seconds, but it's hard and it's passionate and it's desperate.  
  
And just as quickly he's standing up and looking down at me again. "I'll do the windows. And Duo, ah... suki da."  
  
I blink as he turns around and walks away. Well damn. This looks like it's going to be a good day after all.  
  
Right after I replace that warped board, anyways. 


End file.
